


Inception

by rythmicjea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Moulin Rouge! Fusion, Dancing, F/M, Inspired by Moulin Rouge!, ObiTine Week 2020, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Past Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon KNOWS, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rythmicjea/pseuds/rythmicjea
Summary: We all know that Obi-Wan and Satine's backstory is really just Moulin Rouge. So, here is my take on bringing the two together. The trio needs to have a disguise while they travel with their charge. Satine is feeling guilt that she can't contribute more to her protectors efforts to keep her safe.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Inception

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm late. It's 2021 and 6 months after the week but here is day one of my submission!

“Obi-wan…” Qui-Gon’s soft voice permeated the door. His padawan was so by the book it was amazing that he had a rebellious streak before he took him on. “It is just hair. The Force doesn’t care. I assure you that this small change will not ripple through the entire universe.” The older Jedi could wax poetic about how the braid was a status symbol only and held no true ramifications within the galaxy but what he needed his padawan to do was simply cut off the braid. 

“Master Qui-Gon?” A young aristocratic voice interrupted. 

The kind blue eyes looked at his charge with appreciation. Her once blonde hair was now a deep red. Her pale skin and blue eyes suited the change well. “Ah, your grace.” He gave a small bow.

“Please Master Qui-Gon, I am not a duchess anymore, there is no need to stand on formality. As I’ve asked, you may call me Satine.” 

“If your rule was not ordained, Satine,” he reasoned placing his hands on her shoulders, “then I would not stand on formality. If you lose hope then so will your people. You may not be with them but they will always be with you.” The young woman raised her nose in confidence. A weaker woman would cower, but not Satine. Her strength was commendable and not easily found.

“Will you allow me?” She motioned to the door. Qui-Gon opened his palm giving her room to move past. The closeness between his charge and apprentice had not gone unnoticed. Taking the young duchess on was a test in willful versus necessary attachment. He stepped away and watched her knock an odd pattern and without a word the sound of the latch unlocking resonated. Satine gave the Jedi Master a small smile and made her way into the small fresher.

\---

Obi-Wan Kenobi stared at himself in the mirror, a pair of scissors sat on the ledge next to his hand. He could do it. He could. But he didn’t want to; and, that was where his stubbornness was making war in his mind. Qui-Gon was of course correct. They were trying to hide the fact that they were jedi in order to keep the Duchess safe. His braid was to indicate his status within the Jedi Order not the galaxy itself. But… if he didn’t have the order what did he have? Obi-Wan sighed knowing the answer to that. But to voice it? He was not strong enough yet.

The voices outside were muffled until he heard the _rap raprap rapraprap rap_ on the door. Did his master hear it? Did he know it? There were no questions in his mind from his master about it and that was a relief. Silently he unlocked the door and waited for her to walk in.

Her appearance stunned him. Her hair, though still damp, shined like a jewel. The deep red was breathtaking. He swallowed thickly at the sight. This was not helping his current crisis. “Oh Obi…” she breathed. 

“What?” His eyes went wide with concern. He hadn’t said anything. Should he have said something? He should have complimented her and now it was too late and she was pointing it out and- 

“Your hair…” she ran her fingers softly through the now black locks. It made his blue eyes even more pronounced. 

Nervously he turned to the mirror and ran his hands through it, trying to get the ends that stood up to flatten down. “What about it? Is it alright?”

A blush creeped up her cheeks, “You look very…” a multitude of complimentary adjectives came to mind but she reminded herself that propriety was still important. “Nice.” 

“Thank you.” A sheepish smile lit up Obi-wan’s face before his sight settled back on the scissors.

“You know Qui-Gon is correct. It is just hair,” she said soothingly. 

Obi-Wan scratched the back of his head, the progress he had made straightening his thick locks was lost again. “I know but…” 

“It’s a symbol. And symbols are important,” she supplied. He nodded silently. “Come.” She moved him to the side of the basin, sitting him down before picking up the scissors. Kneeling in front of him, she dragged her nails through the damp and freshly dyed hair of her young jedi protector. His eyes became heavy as he allowed himself the brief moment to enjoy her touch. 

He could smell her perfume, light as a spring breeze, but it filled his senses. If he would allow himself he would bury his nose into her neck and breathe deeply. He had imagined it so many times. Her giggle from being ticklish, his accompanying laugh, how her skin would feel under her lips...

_Snip_

Obi’s eyes fluttered open at the sound. Lust clouded his gaze as he looked at his duchess’s face and not the strand in her hand. He didn’t feel different like he thought he would. Maybe it was because he refused to look at the braid he had spent so many years cultivating. He leaned into her touch on his cheek, her silence saying enough. 

The trio had found themselves on a planet that cared more about itself than the galaxy, which was perfect for their purposes. Even though Qui-Gon was able to find them a change of clothes and a place to stay, there was, however, a necessity for credits because Qui-Gon would only let his mind abilities get them so far. 

Obi-Wan fiddled with his vest, not comfortable with the form fitting clothing. He missed his robes terribly. They were comfortable and flowed with grace, but this attire felt too constricting. He tugged at the collar fiddling with the top button hoping to give his neck a reprieve. The hat he wore covered his freshly dyed hair, which gave him a bit of relief. He could have stared at his face for weeks and still not realized the change was real. He didn’t feel like himself and maybe that was the point.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon began to admonish, “the more you fiddle the more attention you will bring.” 

“Your master is right,” Satine chimed in. She grasped his pinky with hers in comfort.

\---

The cantina they found themselves in was lively with music and dancing. Drinks were being poured liberally and the usually headstrong royal was finding herself shy in the large crowd. Her long red dress seemed a bit too formal for the clientele. The patrons were made up of mostly men and it seemed that the women were the entertainment.

No one stopped to turn at the trio, they were too engrossed in their chosen activities. Qui-Gon seemed perfectly content in an atmosphere such as this and Satine thought it best not to bring up just how flushed her young jedi companion was becoming with every passing moment. A hostess introduced herself, Nini, Satine thought she heard, and they were told to pick any place to sit. She practically purred at Obi-Wan and his naivete was like lothcat-nip to her. Satine looped her arm in his and thanked the hostess for her help and led him over to an empty table while the Jedi master sidled up to the bar.

Though they looked the part they had no money to their name. The young couple was certain their older companion was swindling to get them fed. The guilt weighed heavily on Obi-Wan. Satine’s delicate hand sat atop his thigh. He wondered briefly if she knew what her advancement could mean. He tried to find his connection to the Force, something he was always acutely aware of, but whenever he was around her, it seemed to go silent. Did she know what she did to him? How one look left him absolutely breathless? There were so many sleepless nights across campfires or floors where his mind was filled with images of her. Her smile at the scent of a flower, her chirp at the cold temperature of a stream when she bathed. Not that he ever looked. Well… not that he ever saw anything he wasn’t supposed to.

The band had gone soft, playing some decorative background music. “Obi-Wan, may I borrow your hat?”

“M-my hat? Why?” He didn’t want to give up his hat. What if people were to see his appearance? It wasn’t like they had a reference to compare it to. And Satine was asking…

“I have an idea. I don’t know what Qui-Gon is doing and I don’t think you would want to know, if I did.” 

“What are you planning?” He looked at her with narrow eyes. 

“If you must know, I thought I might sing a song. I believe it’s called ‘busking’? I might as well put the years of cotillion lessons to good use.” She shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly. 

Obi-Wan knew that shrug. She was psyching herself up. “Satine. You don’t have to.”

“I know that I do not have to. I want to. You have taken care of me without payment and I am sorry but I simply cannot let you continue to cater to me.” Before the young jedi could protest she had grabbed his hat from his head, his hands going up immediately to try and hide the dye job and watched her march to the side of the room.

Obi-Wan lost sight of her when she went into the dark corridor. No one was really expecting anyone from Mandalore to be here. She would be okay… right? He did not have time to figure out all of the ways in which he possibly lost her when Qui-Gon arrived at the table with drinks in hand. “Padawan, where is her grace?”

“Uh…” he cleared his throat, “she went to go talk to the band leader.”

“Ah. I was wondering when her guilt would catch up to her.” He sat down, not a care on his shoulders, with his apprentice looking at him stunned. “She has been trying to find a way to pull her own weight. She understands that she does not have the luxuries of her own life and with the exception of diplomacy has no real survival skills.” Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a once over. “I see she has your hat.”

Before the padawan could answer, the lights went down and a spotlight appeared. What had Satine negotiated? Obi-Wan thought to himself. He looked everywhere but the stage. Because if he did look, then he would stare, and if he stared then his master would know. 

“Obi-Wan, watch the show. The more you fidget the more attention you will bring.” Qui-Gon repeated, never taking his eyes off of the stage acting perfectly at home in the debauched crowd. 

No music began, just a sultry voice, and Obi-Wan was hooked. He stared with rapture at the once Duchess now turned show girl. 

_“Mandalore is glad to die, for love.”_

Gone was her red dress and in its place a tiny silver thing that shimmered like a waterfall and his hat sat atop her head. Where did she get that outfit? He could be thinking of anything else regarding what he was watching and instead he chose to focus on where she got a costume in a dance hall? He really needed to learn how to enjoy life.

_“They delight in fighting duels._  
_But I prefer a man who lives_  
_And gives expensive… jewels.”_

The sight and spectacle kept his attention far more rapt than he should. His master did say to fit in, and it would be far more suspicious if he wasn’t ogling the performance. The whistles made him insanely jealous but the green that filled him was only curbed by the fact that she was going home with him. _Them._ She was going home with them, _not him_. He had never wanted a night alone with Satine more than in this very moment. The realization of another time and another place was acutely ringing throughout his mind. He had no time to think if he had shielded his thoughts or worry about what his Master might deduce from them. Not that it would be difficult with the tawdry images floating around.

Satine’s dance was a fun little romp filled with hip shimmies, high kicks, and teases towards the crowd. The song was not one Obi-Wan was familiar with. But really he did not have much time to spend on music with his studies. He knew she was far more versed in what was popular across the galaxy. Observing the crowd, he figured that they either knew the song or appreciated her rendition as many tips were thrown her way. 

Overwhelmed by everything, Obi-Wan could not pick one place to look at for it was all too tempting. 

Lights flashed and sparkled across his face and it took him far longer to realize that the object of his desire was shimmying tantalizingly in front of him before brazenly sitting in his lap. “I believe you were expecting me,” she winked. 

Obi-Wan’s throat closed up, his mouth gobbed like a caught fish, and his eyes were too dry to blink. He had completely forgotten that Qui-Gon was with them. He forgot the world existed outside of this moment; the two of them. But she was expecting something. What felt like an eternity of silence on his part was pressing into him. So he said the only thing that came to his mind. He would chastise himself for it later. He was not suave and though he was told he had a way with words it took hours to hone in on the correct thing to say. For the embarrassment he felt shortly after, the comfort the phrase brought later in life was due to this moment. This mesmerizing moment. As life would pass he would keep these feelings buried deep inside. To give himself the false sense of satisfaction. But every time he would utter these words, the realization that his life was not perfect would boil to the surface; yet, at the same time the memory would give him strength. 

“Hello there…” he breathed.


End file.
